


Anchor

by Pandir



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other, allusions to crippling loneliness, mentions of some puppet make outs, musing on paraphilias, objectophilia, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 17:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19044832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandir/pseuds/Pandir
Summary: The truth of the matter is, you just really like puppets.





	Anchor

TG: ok time 2 fess up  
TG: do you rly have a thing for puppezs??

TT: A thing?

TG: u know what i mean  
TG: like a fetits  
TG: **fefish  
TG: lmfoa

You lie on your back on the mattress in the corner of your hopelessly cluttered room with your electronic shades on, your fingers hovering over the metaphorical keyboard as you hesitate to answer. This should be an easy question, but you’re not a very straight-forward guy, at least not when it comes to emotional matters.

Lil Cal is sitting on your desk guarding your sword, and his unmoving blue eyes stare back at you like he's watching over you, too.

Your earliest memory is of burying your face in Cal’s chest, breathing in the scent of the stuffed yet pliant crafted body. Even now, that never fails to soothe you.  
In fact, you spent most of your nights hugging his puppet torso tightly, his floppy arms gently wrapped around you. It used to be the only way you could sleep when you were young - especially during thunderstorms, when the whole structure of your home was creaking under in the force of the elements and the spray of the high waves was splashing against the window of your room.

It's undeniable that you have very strong feelings about puppets. And if you hesitate to call your fondness a fetish, it’s not because of a lack of sexual inclination – an approximate shit-ton of plush smuppet rumps scattered across your room is a testament to that.

You think of your first kiss, of awkwardly pressing your mouth to Cal’s red lips before tentatively slipping your tongue between his wooden teeth, tasting the faint chemical tang of paint. Of the unbelievably soft caress of Cal’s white felt mittens that never fails to make you shiver when you subtly guide them over your neck and chest, their gentle touch light and teasing against your sensitive skin as the sound of your moans is stifled by the fabric of Cal’s shirt.

You’re anything but insecure about your kinks and proclivities, but having a plethora of what could be deemed pretty unusual sexual interests makes you even more certain that “fetish” doesn’t quite encompass your singular fondness for puppets – it feels too fragile and personal to simply slap a label on it.

Briefly, you consider arguing definitions and philosophizing on the nature of puppets as a mirror of human desires, but if you’re not being deliberately convoluted, the answer is not quite as complicated, really.

TT: The truth of the matter is,  
TT: I just really like puppets.

TG: yeh you do  
TG: weirdo ;)

TT: Why, can’t a dude think puppets are pretty fuckin' rad?  
TT: Which they objectively are.

TG: whatever you know i dont jugde  
TG: i mean whos to say whats strange and what isnt

It’s not strange to you. On the contrary - it’s comfort. It’s company.

It’s the only kind of intimacy you’ve ever known.

You don’t think you can put that into words, but you don’t have to. There are some things that are reserved for Cal’s embrace alone, like quietly murmured words easily swallowed by wool stuffing and purple fabric damp with tears - and Cal’s always kept your secrets.


End file.
